“Thank you,” Silver said in a voice as clear as the night.
She felt Polaris curl about her feet, channeling his magic through her. She kept her eyes closed and started the summoning. She imagined a tiny spark as small as that of a match, even smelled the hint of sulfur. The flame in her mind flickered, growing stronger until it was the size of candlelight. The odor of burning tallow filled her senses.
Pushing harder with her magic, she caused the flame in her mind’s eye to sprout to the size of a blazing campfire, and she smelled hickory smoke. With another nudge, it roared into a bonfire. Wood crackled and the fire hissed and spit like snakes. The smell of burning wood—this time a wild blend of pine, oak, and ash—was strong in the night air.
Forcefully, Silver pushed and shoved with her magic until the bonfire in her mind erupted from the ground. The earth shook and cracked. A cone pushed through the fissure, expanding, thrusting upward, rising until it became a volcano spewing forth lava. Smoke ringed the crater, sparks rained on blackened rock, and lava oozed from its cavernous mouth.
The image burned so brightly in Silver’s mind that sweat coated her once cool skin and her body blazed with fire. The heat of the volcano burned through her and she could almost smell the sulfur, could almost feel ash coat her skin, and an occasional spark pock her naked flesh. Even her bare feet practically ached with cuts from the ancient lava rock she stood upon.
In the fierceness of her vision, Silver called upon the D’Danann.
“Winds from the South, call those who would heed.” Her voice rose as she spoke above the booming volcano. “Bring warriors to save many souls in need. This day I cry for all those now lost. This day I cry for the coming cost.”
She took a deep breath before she cast the spell that would bring her people’s saviors... Or their doom, if she invoked beings who were neutrally aligned, who believed the destruction of her city was the natural order of things.
With all her heart she knew the D’Danann were truly the only beings who could help the witches.
If they chose to do so.
“Fire, burn bright, to bring the Tuatha D’Danann,” she said in her most powerful voice, and she felt her familiar’s magic enhance her own. “Guardians of good, from far away. I call on the D’Danann for balance and light. I call to the D’Danann, come now to fight!”
Silver’s entire body shook with the force of the volcano’s eruption, and lava shot into the murky sky clouded by volcanic ash.
The heat of the volcano eased as her vision turned to that of a forest, green and lush.
Silver saw men and women standing in a circle on a mossy carpet of grass—men and women with wings! Huge wings of multihued feathers. Some white, some black, some blue, among other colors. Large, powerfully built men and women with finely sculpted forms.
At the center of the circle stood a single man.
Hawk.
Tall, proud, with long dark hair, and broad shoulders leading to a muscular chest, tapered hips, and powerful thighs. He wore only black from head to toe, just as she remembered. He spread his wings, dark against the green of the forest. And his eyes...a warm amber that heated her through, reminding her of that first meeting.
She shivered.
The D’Danann heard my call. They will come now.
The vision of the forest faded, and in its place returned the volcano. Its heat was so intense she felt nearly afire with it. Polaris hissed and she knew he felt it, too.
She forced the image of the volcano back, back. In her mind the volcano melted into itself, disappearing into the fissure in the ground until the fire was as big as a burning building. It decreased gradually to the size of a bonfire. Sweat coated her naked skin and trickled between her breasts.
In her mind she gathered the bonfire into a smaller space, containing it in a rock-surrounded campfire, then made it smaller yet, until it was but candle flame. She mentally extinguished the flame until a thin trail of smoke was all that remained. All pain she had felt from the vision vanished.
Her eyes still closed tight, Silver let out a soft sigh, then caught her breath.
The ground rumbled and bucked beneath her feet. The ocean roared with the power of a tempest. Sparks burst behind Silver’s eyelids and turned to flame. A cold blast of air slammed into her body. The Ancestors were surely ordering the Elements of Earth, Water, Fire, and Air to answer her call.
Thunder crackled in the sky, in a city where there were rarely, if ever, thunderstorms.
Then all went quiet.
Heart pounding and limbs trembling, Silver opened her eyes.
The beach was empty.
A sigh of disappointment eased through her. The only movement was the fog creeping in from the ocean along with the endless pulse of the water as each wave rolled up along the shore, retreated, then pushed its way up the sand again and again.
Where she hadn’t felt the chill of the night because of her magic, it now wrapped around her, causing her to shiver, and goose bumps to rise along her skin. The remnants of burning candle wax mixed with the sandalwood incense and the strong salt and fish smell of the ocean.
There was no sign of anything else.
How could that be? The D’Danann heard her. Hawk had heard her. She was sure of it.
Maybe we aren’t worthy. Maybe they chose to leave us to our fate.
Heart heavy, she slowly closed the circle. She extinguished the candles and incense, and started to gather her ritual supplies and put them back into the wooden trunk. What would she do, what could she do now, alone? She had to contact Jake and the PSF, of course, but could they actually do anything to help? Would their guns be able to fight off demons?
Somehow she didn’t think so.
Silver took off her crescent crown and tossed it into the box. In a bout of frustration she whirled and kicked the sand, scattering it across her altar and over the white candle.
Polaris hissed and turned his head toward the sky.
Silver’s hair rose along her arms. She heard the whump of wings. Large wings.
Louder. And louder yet.
A shadow marking the moon jerked her attention to the dark sky. Through the night she saw an even darker object approaching, closer and closer. She stepped back, heart beating so hard her chest ached. When it came closer still, she froze, unable to move.
A tall winged being came to an easy landing, his boots sinking into the soft sand as he touched down. Wind from the push of his wings slid over her body in one small gust.
Hawk. Hawk alone.
He flapped once more, revealing an impressive wingspan. The metal of his sword glinted in the moonlight. He was exactly how she remembered him, the cut of his jaw, the powerful physique, the dark hair reaching his shoulders. He stood just feet away and she could easily see his eyes were just as intense and a deep clear amber as she remembered.
“Hawk.” Silver swallowed and brought her attention back to the reason he was here. “Where is everyone else? Where are the other D’Danann?”
Hawk couldn’t take his gaze from the beautiful woman posed before him. Her lithe body was gods-created perfection, every naked curve meant to be caressed by a man’s hands.
Her nipples peaked from the ocean breeze, her long hair floated about her shoulders like pale silk tumbling nearly to her hips. Moonlight graced her skin. The silver snake wound around her wrist, its amber eyes glowing like twin candle flames.
He raised his gaze and Silver’s eyes locked with his.
A low rumble of desire rose within Hawk. Her chest rose and fell with the heaviness of her breathing. He fixed his gaze on her delicate features. Slightly dazed, he could only stare at the one who had summoned him.
And then he saw the snake.
His heart began to pound like hammer against steel.
All the old memories, the old fears and anger burned within him.
The large beast rose up from beside Silver, its tongue flicking and its intense black eyes focused on Hawk.
His fea
r and fury heated him through as he drew his sword, his eyes never wavering from the slithering beast.
“What are you doing?” Silver asked, her voice barely penetrating the anger that had overcome him at the sight of the snake.
“Step away, Silver.” He moved forward, his gaze fixed on the huge beast as he raised his weapon. He would slice the snake’s head off. One clean blow.
From the corner of his eye he saw Silver’s gaze flick to the snake and back to him as he stealthily approached. “No,” she said firmly as she stepped in front of the creature. “This is my familiar, Polaris. Don’t you dare try to hurt him.”
Hawk was a mere foot from Silver now. The snake curled around her legs and began winding its way up her naked body until she held it in her arms.
She petted its head casually with her fingertips. “Put your weapon away.”
Heart still pounding, mouth still dry. Hawk met Silver’s gaze. “You have a snake. As a familiar.”
She cocked her head, her hair floating around her shoulders in the breeze. “You have a problem with that?”
Gathering his warrior’s mien, Hawk sheathed his sword and hardened his expression. “I merely thought it might attack you.”
Starting with its head, Silver unwound the eight-foot snake from her body and deposited the beast on the sand. Hawk could swear the snake was laughing as it flicked out its tongue and studied him with those fathomless black eyes.
“Polaris isn’t dangerous, unlike other pythons his size, and he won’t grow any bigger,” Silver continued. “He’s well over a hundred years old from what I know of him, and he has strong magic.”
Hawk just watched the snake.
“They usually don’t get that old, but like I said, he’s a familiar.” Silver bent over and Hawk’s attention was drawn to her breasts as she scooped up her white satin robe, then straightened and began shrugging into it
Every movement she made was sensual. His gaze traveled from her breasts to her slim waist, over the curve of her buttocks, down her elegant legs, and all the way to her delicate ankles. Gods, the woman was beautiful.
She has a snake. A damned snake.
When she had cinched the robe at her waist, hiding her body from his view, she gave him an amused look.
Then her expression changed to one of concern. “Where are the rest of your people?”
Hawk found his voice again. “I alone answered your summoning.”
“A-alone?” Silver couldn’t believe what he’d just said. “How can just one D’Danann fight so many Fomorii?”
“How many came to your world?” Hawk asked.
“At least a dozen, I think. I don’t really know.” Silver couldn’t help the tremble in her voice. “They have at least two Basilisks, as well.”
She pushed her hair out of her face as she continued. “The Fomorii took my Coven tonight. Everyone but me and two apprentices.”
“Basilisks?” The word came out of his mouth like the vilest of oaths. Anger, loathing, and something more was on his strong features. He shook his head, as if to shake away the images of the creatures that clearly affected him.
“Godsdamn.” Hawk’s jaw tightened and his eyes were like amber flame as he went on. “I had hoped with the strength of your Coven we might end this war before it starts.”
Silver shivered at the mention of war. It brought to her images of death, destruction.
Darkwolf.
“We have no choice now,” she said. “We need the D’Danann.”
“The Chieftains have not made their determination yet.” Hawk scowled. “I came at the bidding of the Great Guardian, against the wishes of the Chieftains.”
Hope sank within Silver’s belly like a rock tossed into a pool. “If they don’t come soon, I’m afraid of what might happen. I don’t know why they took the D’Anu witches.” She paused. “Unless they mean to keep all of us from fighting them.”
“Or force you to aid their cause.” Hawk wore a harsh look of anger.
It was Silver’s turn to frown. “The D’Anu would never help such evil. They wouldn’t even help me summon the D’Danann when I asked them to.”
Hawk simply watched her. “I must search for their lair at once. Will you be all right to return to your home alone?”
“Of course.” Silver tossed her hair over her shoulder. “I can take care of myself.”
He gave her a respectful bow from his shoulders. “Then I will see you when I have finished scouting.”
Before Silver could say a word, he spread his beautiful wings, flapped them hard enough that sand swirled around her feet, and began his ascent into the sky.
And then he simply vanished, the night cloaking him as if he’d never been there.
Silver stood for precious seconds, her heart pounding in her throat as she stared at where Hawk had been. A mixture of emotions whirled through her like foam on the waves swirling against the shore and back again.
Hawk came, but no others.
And then she frowned. How would he know where to find her again?
October 25
6
Underworld
* * *
Junga paused and smirked at her host body’s reflection in the window of the Marquis’s lobby.
Elizabeth Black, the woman had been called, before Junga had bitten her pale throat and sucked down her sweet, rich blood. Then one touch was all it had taken to become Elizabeth, and to banish the wounds Junga had inflicted upon the dead woman’s shell.
Darkwolf had led the Fomorii in the mid of night to this very hotel where he had helped Junga locate the owner. From Elizabeth’s memory imprints, Junga learned that the hotel owner had spurned Darkwolf’s advances, no doubt causing him to seek revenge in this way. She was also rich and not without power, which would be useful to them.
In favor of the more powerful host, Junga had shed the warlock shell she had possessed after the Fomorii had spewed into the Balorite chamber. After they found her in her office, Junga had taken over Elizabeth’s body before the bitch knew what was happening to her. It had taken mere seconds.
Ignoring the buzz of the hotel and its patrons and employees behind her, Junga let her smile widen, almost let her fangs slip from their sheaths. Centuries of exile hadn’t lessened the Fomorii power at all.
Merciless conquest. The Fomorii way.
Before being exiled to Underworld, Fomorii lived their lives as sea gods in absolute freedom, with absolute abandon. They were more intelligent, stronger than any known beings, predestined to be the dominant species. Other races were simply food, meant to be conquered, enslaved, and eaten.
No mercy. Never mercy.
“All hail Balor,” Junga said to herself.
Too bad the Fomorii couldn’t maintain the warlocks’ and witches’ witchcraft by taking over their bodies. That was the one thing the demons had never been able to do—keep the host body’s powers. Junga had tried to help a summoning when she had become the dead warlock. But of course, no sorcery had remained.
However, she rather liked this Elizabeth, although the human shell was extremely fragile. The intelligence imprints within her tiny brain enabled Junga to easily meld within the society the Fomorii had entered. Elizabeth had been self- assured, confident, rich, and considered beautiful by human standards. She had been known as a bitch, a ballbuster, a woman with brass ovaries. And she had reveled in it. The perfect host body for Junga.
Fortunately the bitch’s family was back in New York City, so she didn’t have to deal with them. Not that Elizabeth had cared to have any relationship with them.
Junga smiled. How convenient.
She continued to study her reflection in the hotel’s thick glass window. The host body she now owned was tall, slender, and “chic” according to Elizabeth’s mind imprints. Her long, glossy black hair hung loosely around her shoulders and she had what was considered by humans to be a “sophisticated” look—an oval face, collagen-filled lips, blue eyes, and a small plastic-surgeon-perfected nose.
Humans were indeed a strange but intriguing race. In physical appearance they looked so different—and certainly much cleaner—than she remembered of the race in the days when the Fomorii ruled the seas and sought to conquer Ireland. At that time all humans had looked the same to her. Now she could see the differences, and found herself marveling at the changes in this world.
She held out her new hand and studied the long, blood-red nails. Useless things. Nothing like Fomorii claws. Especially now that they were tipped in iron to give them an edge over the D’Danann. This soft human skin made Fomorii vulnerable to attack, but as long as they didn’t attract attention in their human forms, they would slowly be able to take over the city.
With the D’Anu witches’ powers to exploit—once the witches were brought into line and realized they had no other options—it wouldn’t be long until all her people would be able to make the journey from exile into this plane of existence.
According to Darkwolf, they simply needed enough witches who would cooperate by Samhain—the time when the veil between worlds was at its thinnest—and San Francisco would belong to the Fomorii. Then they would expand their rule across other cities and states, taking over governments, extending their power. Bedamned those who imprisoned them in the first place.
The Tuatha D’Danann.
Bedamned her father who had led them to that fate. If only he had been strong enough to protect Balor, they could have won the battle.
“Junga.” Bane called to her from across the lobby of the Marquis, Elizabeth’s small, privately owned boutique hotel that Junga and her warriors had taken over.
Bane’s voice sounded strange uttered from the unfamiliar human body, yet there was a recognizable rumble to it. As one of her legionmates, she had used him to pleasure her, along with his warrior duties. She was looking forward to the time she would take him in this form and enjoy human sex.
“Elizabeth,” she growled when he came closer. “You must call me by that name when among humans.”
Bane gave a slight bow at the shoulders. “Yes, ceannaire." The Fomorii word translated to “leader” in the language called English. Bane’s human body was tall, and he had oak-brown hair with hazel eyes. He wore the same impeccable black suit and red tie the hotel manager had been wearing when Bane had overcome him.
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